


fons pietatis

by smolstiel



Series: Boyking!Sam Drabbles [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Milligan in Lucifer's Cage, Gen, Lucifer's Cage, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage, Sam Winchester's Soul, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolstiel/pseuds/smolstiel
Summary: prompt: the boyking and his brother have been estranged for some time now, however, the two of them end up in a position where they both must rely on the other for survival. Kinda like old times... almostWritten for the Boyking Sam Discord Server. Title from City of the Dead by Eurielle. Can be read as implied Boyking!Sam or as canon.





	fons pietatis

Adam hates Sam's fucking guts. No, really, he's seen them quivering under Lucifer's icy-ass gaze before and he's gotta say, Sam deserves it. 

First Sam, then Lucifer and Michael have come and gone from his interdimensional sex dungeon. Not even a look back, fuck them all, just left without a word. Once he was all alone in there, the walls seeming to stretch for miles in every direction. Sometimes it seemed so small, so cramped, but he thought that was more Michael's shit crawling into his head than anything else. 

Well, he wasn't completely alone. 

There was some sliver of Sam's soul left in the box with him, gibbering and useless. He kicked it out of the way as he paced and it cowered like a puppy. He had to pause at that, because _fuck._ He was sorely tempted to keep kicking it until it bled, and Adam hated himself for it. He stared at it for a moment and it hid its face. 

He sighed heavily, bending down beside the little piece of soul. "You're no help at all." It didn't respond. "Seriously. We're both stuck in here, and you're not even supposed to be here anymore. The rest of you's forgotten us." Hazel eyes peek up, almost hopeful. Almost fearful. 

"I hate you so fucking much," he said, and pet the matted hair. "But I think you hate you too." 

The piece of Sam seemed to agree.


End file.
